


Intemperate Indeed

by RosaFloribunda



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canon Era, F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-25 18:36:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10770042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosaFloribunda/pseuds/RosaFloribunda
Summary: Burr and Hamilton get competitive.VERY competitive.Or, a series of exactly 1000 word-long ficlets in which our two favourite frenemies are constantly trying to one-up each other, and Eliza and Theo Sr. are having none of it.





	1. Fluent in French and Latin

"Eliza, my sweet, please refrain."

"Alexander, you know I am in the right."

The husband and wife stared into each other's eyes until Alexander broke. Dropping his gaze to the floor, he muttered "I detest Burr."

"You do not," said Eliza sensibly. "You have had a falling-out, nothing more. This party is the perfect chance to repair your alliance."

"And if I do not wish to repair it?"

Eliza took his arm and smiled up at him. It was her usual soft smile, but behind it was a core of steel. "You must. It is true that Burr has a decided lack of morals, but at least he does not have the _wrong_ morals."

"I have explained this to you before," said Alexander in exasperation. "An amoral man to me is more loathsome than an immoral one. I cannot and shall not tolerate Mr. Burr's company."

Eliza dropped her hand and took a step back, a frown marring her normally placid features. She knew she alone could not change her husband's mind. It was time to call in her backup.

Surreptitiously, she rang the bell for the maidservant as Alexander settled into his old desk chair and began to write. Molly appeared no more than twenty seconds later. "Yes, madam?"

"Tell Cook to prepare a tray of tea for Mr. Hamilton. Chamomile, I think, to calm him down," Eliza told the younger woman. "And bring down the children."

Molly understood at once. (She was a clever girl, cleverer than most of the servants Eliza had been used to growing up; Alexander had specifically requested his 'best of wives and best of women' to hire literate staff so that they could arrange his writings and treatises properly.) So she bobbed her mistress a curtsey and hurried off, inwardly giggling at how Eliza had 'the master' wrapped around her little finger.

There was silence for a little while. Only the sounds of Alexander's quill scratching over paper and the crackling of the fire could be heard. Eliza sat on a chaise longue but didn't take her needlework out. She was waiting.

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

Then a human hurricane burst into the room and Alexander jumped, nearly knocking over his inkpot as his four eldest children surrounded him and begun to scream about how excited they were. They were all wearing their best; Angie even wore the necklace of Spanish pearls given to her by her namesake aunt. He had never seen Alex Junior so clean. James was wearing a cravat, which he normally refused to do because it 'tickled his throat'. As for Phillip - his firstborn son, his favourite although he would never tell that to the others - Phillip looked like a miniature of his father.

"Darlings," said the mother of the children gravely, causing them to quieten down, turn and face her. "I'm terribly sorry, but your father has forbidden us from attending Mr. Burr's party. You must go upstairs at once, change and spend the rest of the evening studying quietly."

Alexander cringed. The expressions on his children's faces as they turned back to him were ones of pure betrayal. Alex Junior began to howl. Angie looked like she could dash the inkpot in her father's face. James made as if to rip off the hated cravat. And Phillip... Phillip just said "Pa," in that way of his that made Alexander want to give him the world. The Treasury Secretary didn't say this often, but he was helpless.

Well played, Eliza. Well played indeed.

"We will attend this party," he said with an inward sigh.

"Yes!" His children gave a resounding cheer and hugged him all at once. Alexander felt a smile creep onto his face without his consent. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad after all.

* * *

It was. The children got out of the carriage slowly when it arrived back at the Hamiltons' house, tired and dispirited. Molly ushered them up to the nursery, and Eliza made to go with them to check on baby John, but was stopped by her husband as he disembarked. "Betsey," he said tightly, "we will hire a private governess for Angelica at once."

"Am I not a good enough teacher?" Eliza demanded of her husband as she was escorted to the door.

He went red. "No. Yes. I mean. But you heard what that degenerate of a Burr said! His daughter, his precious Theodora -"

"Theodosia -"

"Whatever!" He assumed a mimicking tone of voice. "'Fluent in French and Latin', God's teeth, sometimes I wish for a return to absolute monarchy. If I was King I would have his head!"

"Just because his daughter is well-educated," Eliza said patiently as she was pulled into the drawing-room without even getting a chance to take her bonnet off.

Alexander threw himself into his chair and snatched up his quill once more, gouging thick, black, almost unintelligible characters into the expensive parchment. It looked, thought his wife indulgently, as if he were writing in Hebrew. No - wait - he was. Oh dear. "It's not that this Theophania is well-educated, it's that she's better-educated than our Angie and _that man_ persists in rubbing it in my face! Well, I shall raise his stakes. Our daughter will be fluent in not only French and Latin, but also Greek. And Italian! And..."

"I think that will do, my love," his wife told him, plucking the feather from his hand. "It is late. Come with me to bed. We shall see about a governess in the morning."

Alexander made as if to retort, but eventually fell silent. Rolling his eyes, he rose and followed his wife up the stairs. She, meanwhile, was silently rejoicing. Who would have guessed that it would take a man such as Aaron Burr to prompt Alexander to take an interest in his daughter's education outside of music and art? Angelica, her sister Angelica, would be proud. She'd always fought for a course of study as thorough as their brothers'.

Yes, thought Eliza. Burr wasn't so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you, like Eliza, are Done™!


	2. Home Improvements

Burr supposed it was supposed to be some sort of compliment that Hamilton had taken up a regular correspondence with him. Well, it didn't feel that way. Every thirty-page epistle describing in excruciating detail the juvenile exploits of the Secretary's brood of children was not only a bore for Burr to wade through but also a thorn in his side - Hamilton was boasting quite dreadfully. _My Phillip has delighted us all with a book of poetry he wrote himself. Dear Angelica grows more acquainted with the Sciences each day. James Alexander shewed me yesterday his notes on Homer's_ Iliad _, which I believe to be as detailed and perceptive as any grown scholar's._ Burr wanted to scream. Pretty soon he'd be receiving news that the infant John had graduated from King's College with honours. This was too much to bear.

Now, Burr loved his daughter, but he knew very well that one child, however unusually bright, could not compare with five. So how could he defeat Hamilton in this battle of fortunate circumstances?

The answer was simple.

Use against Hamilton what the latter had not got and, due to his absurdly low salary, would never have; wealth.

That night as they lay in bed, his wife reading by candlelight, he spoke up. "Dearest wife?"

"Yes, husband?" She sounded amused. She knew he wanted something from her.

"I was thinking..." He paused. "I was thinking that it is possibly time to make some improvements to the house. No, hear me out," he rushed to add as she put down her book and turned to interrupt him. "Perhaps new curtains? New tablecloths and carpets? And an _armoire_ in the dining-room. Secretary Jefferson assures me they are the very height of fashion."

Theodosia laughed and threw her plump arms around him, kissing his head. "You really are the most obtuse man I've ever met. I have been hinting for the past year that I would like a change in furnishings, and you only pick up on it now?"

Burr smiled in relief. "Indeed," he agreed. "But let me repay you for it. We will have whatever you desire - price is no object, simply name it and it shall be procured."

"Well," Theodosia started, her stormy eyes lighting up at the prospect of what was sure to be a long list of articles. "The marble in the drawing-room fireplace is cracked and must be repaired, and I should like a mirror over the mantel such as Dolley Madison has, edged with gilt. The bookshelves need a fresh coat of varnish."

"Nothing of the sort. We shall buy new bookshelves."

The love of Burr's life squealed, embracing him for the second time that evening, but he was only half-attentive. He was engaged in mentally drafting a letter to Hamilton containing a description of their house's improvements. And just for kicks, as Young Theo would say, he would end it in superiorly formal style: _"I have the honour to be your obedient servant, A. Burr."_

* * *

"...your obedient servant, A. Burr!" Hamilton read with growing anger as the young messenger boy in front of him twisted his hands nervously.

Percy was standing on the step in his best livery outside the door of Alexander Hamilton, one of the most important men in the country, and at the moment he had been acting nothing like he was portrayed in the papers. He wasn't furiously writing, or inviting prostitutes to his home, or screaming at people about banks. All he was doing was staring at the piece of paper that Mr. Burr had asked to be delivered.

Percy felt he had to say something in the long silence which followed the end of the letter, and so he asked (in his politest manner just like his Ma had taught him) "'Scuse me, sir, but what should I tell my master?"

Hamilton looked up, his brow thunderous. "You can tell _your master_ that he can take this braggartly piece of ---- and stick it up his ----," he yelled at Percy, who promptly burst into tears.

A pretty woman with long black hair stuck her head out of an upstairs window. "Alexander, stop frightening children!" she called down. "And watch your language."

"Pardon me, Betsey," Hamilton replied sulkily. "Do stop crying," this addressed to Percy, who sniffed and rubbed his eyes with a freshly darned coat-sleeve.

"Sorry, sir."

"I have - oh -" The man fumbled in his pocket to find a five-cent piece. "Buy yourself some candy or a plaything. And tell Mr. Burr that I received his letter with gratitude and a reply will be forthcoming."

"Received with gratitude, reply forthcoming," recited Percy, saluting with his right hand while he grabbed the coin with his left. The fellow was a colonel, after all, and clearly one with a terrible temper. So, as soon as Hamilton nodded, the boy ran quicker than the British out of South Carolina.

Hamilton watched him go with a vague feeling of guilt and resumed his perusal of the letter. In it Burr told his correspondent in a succinct, compelling style that Hamilton had never been able to emulate no matter how hard he tried, all about the enormous amounts of money being poured into his 'home improvements'. He didn't exactly give a figure in dollars and cents, but Hamilton could guess. And he always guessed correctly. It was likely to be more than he himself made in a year. Burr had seen his stakes and raised them further, using his wealth against Hamilton just like Jefferson did in cabinet meetings. A despicable tactic. Especially, thought Hamilton indignantly, since the Democratic-Republicans claimed to be representing the poor working-class citizens of America!

"Alexander, are you alright?"

Eliza was at the window again, the hesitant notes of Phillip's piano accompanying her words. Alexander smiled and shouted up to her "Dear, we're going to be moving upstate."

"What?!"

Oh, well. He could save national politics for another day. Right now he had an argument of the more domestic sort to attend to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrug* Large and impressive houses are cheaper upstate XD
> 
> PS. Leave a comment and make an author's day!


End file.
